


Academy Style

by Eralk Fang (EralkFang)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Sex Toys, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6201367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EralkFang/pseuds/Eralk%20Fang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s not a question of desire, it’s a question of logistics.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dead of Ship's Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [the following prompt at tfa_kink](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/2821.html?thread=5076997#cmt5076997):
>
>> Kylo is _extremely_ well endowed, and rather than being all exited and turned on by that, Hux's reaction upon discovering it for the first time right before they're about to have sex is more along the lines of "...Nope. Nuh uh. That is not going inside me, I like my internal organs where they are thank you very much."
>> 
>> How they work things out from there is up to you, as is how much of a relationship they actually had before this incident, though I would request that there be no non-con involved.

Frankly, General Hux has been expecting his antagonistic relationship with Lord Ren to take a physical turn for quite some time now. The fact that the turn has turned out to be sexual is vastly preferable to the outright violence he’d been predicting. Hux may be ambitious, but he’s also a realist, and he doesn’t fancy his chances in a fight with a Force user with poor impulse control.

What Hux did not expect, when Ren shoved him against the wall of this supply closet, stuck his tongue down his throat, and starting grinding against him desperately, was the monstrous size of Ren’s cock. 

Hux eyes it in his hand warily, before glancing up at Ren. “That’s not going to fit in me,” he says. Hux is still mostly clothed, although his jacket and shirt are open, and Ren’s merely dropped his leggings underneath his cape, cloak, and tunic, pulling his tunic up high enough to expose himself. 

“That’s not what you were saying a moment ago,” Ren says, as he undoes Hux’s belt. 

“It’s not a question of desire, it’s a question of logistics.” Hux wraps both of his hands around Ren’s cock—as he expected, there’s plenty left over. Ren is a big man, but this is… this is just _excessive_. 

Ren chuckles darkly and kisses Hux’s neck as he tugs Hux’s pants and undergarments down his hips, freeing his reasonably but respectably sized cock. “The great general, afraid of a little challenge?”

Ren splays a gloved hand over Hux’s stomach. His stomach contracts at the feel of the rough leather on his sensitive skin. He bites back a groan. “That’s not a _little_ challenge.”

“Mmm,” Ren grunts noncommittally, and kisses him, squeezing his waist, rubbing his thumbs into the divots of Hux’s hips. Hux is not a small man, but Ren is making him feel that way. He hates that even as it makes his cock ache. “Turn around,” Ren says, breaking the kiss to breathe in Hux’s ear. 

Hux grimaces. “I told you, you’re not—”

“You can’t take it, I know,” Ren says, grinding gently against him to make his breathing hitch. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.”

Hux eyes him warily, but turns, slowly. Ren slides his still-gloved hands over Hux’s stomach, pressing their bodies together, hooking his chin over Hux’s shoulder. His breath is hot on the side of Hux’s face. Ren begins to suck and bite at the joining of his neck and shoulders, sucking a bruise into the perfect spot for the collar of Hux’s uniform to brush against whenever he moves. An obvious maneuver, Hux thinks, as his cock leaks at the feeling of Ren’s wet mouth on his skin, but an effective one. 

Ren slides his right hand up Hux’s chest to his own mouth. Out of the corner of Hux’s eye, he makes out Ren biting the fingers of his glove to pull it off. For a moment, Hux is seized by the idea of Ren stuffing his glove in his mouth to keep him quiet, but Ren, disappointingly, spits it to the floor. 

He pulls his bare hand back, barely brushing against Hux’s skin. With his still-gloved left hand, he tweaks Hux’s left nipple, eliciting a groan. Then that hand withdraws as well.

There’s a clink of metal, a rustle of fabric, and the crass sound of Ren spitting into his hand. Hux feels Ren’s erection, wet with precome, rubbing at the cleft of his ass. “Ren,” he hisses, but then Ren’s spit-wet fingers are rubbing roughly at the meat of his inner thigh, knuckles brushing against Hux’s balls. Hux lets his head drop as he shudders, bracing himself against the wall by his forearms. 

It takes Ren another pass to be satisfied with the state of Hux’s thighs, and then Ren pulls back, just enough for his cock to slide leisurely down the curve of Hux’s ass. Hux tenses for a moment, but then Ren pushes his cock between his thighs, cock head snagging on his testicles. Hux groans. 

Ren presses his chest to Hux’s back, sliding his hands around Hux’s hips, resuming his previous position to nip at Hux’s ear. He’s ditched the remaining glove, to Hux’s disappointment. Ren thrusts experimentally between Hux’s legs, and makes a groaning noise that goes straight to Hux’s cock.

“You must be used to this,” Ren purrs, patronizingly, into Hux’s ear. He wraps a rough hand around Hux’s leaking cock. Hux swallows, thickly. “Academy style.”

Hux rolls his eyes. As if he’s not over a decade out of the Academy and more women than men have shared his bed in that time. He’s not actually familiar with this style, although he would never admit that to Ren. It never seemed worthwhile, when he took the trouble to take a male lover—the whole point, in Hux’s eyes, was to _feel_ them, deep inside, not let them come on your thighs.

“Clench your thighs,” Ren orders. Hux presses his knees together and obeys. Ren makes another delicious groaning noise, making Hux’s cock ache. It feels like he’s riding Ren’s cock. Although with Ren’s sheer size, it’s more like straddling, Hux mentally corrects himself. 

He feels swallowed up, acted upon, in a way that Ren actually fucking him wouldn’t feel. He can’t do much of anything but just let Ren take his pleasure on him. That’s not something he’d normally cede to Ren, but in this context, in this supply closet in the dead of ship’s night, it makes him ache, leak, and moan softly against the wall, its black, shining surface fogging with his breath. 

“You’re so big,” Hux says, stupidly. He feels Ren’s teeth press against his shoulder—he’s smirking at him. 

“I know,” Ren says, into his ear. “But I think you could take it. If you put your back into it.” Ren presses his thumb into Hux’s slit, and Hux gasps at the pressure, his eyes rolling back into his head.

He’s caught between Ren’s cock thrusting between his thighs, Ren’s hand working his cock, and Ren’s low, deep voice in his ear. His cock is aching so hard that his balls are tingling. “I’d have to work you open, first, with my fingers, just to stretch out that tight hole of yours. Regularly. I’d sneak you into supply closets and locked rooms just to finger you until you came screaming my name.”

Hux moans at the idea. “Sounds like— _ah!_ —sounds like it would take some time,” he murmurs. His legs are starting to shake with the effort of keeping his thighs clenched around Ren’s cock. “Days. Weeks.”

“It’d be worth it,” Ren says. He’s starting to pant, his voice fraying at the edges, not unlike his helmet’s vocal distorter. “And then once I’d gotten you open, I’d plug you up with something, get you used to it. We’d have start small and work our way up. You’re probably so tight, you’d have to wear it all day.”

The idea of walking the halls of the _Finalizer_ with something Ren shoved up him heavy in his hole makes Hux’s head swim. He grinds back on Ren as much as he’s able. “You should probably fuck me with those things before you leave them in me,” he offers.

Ren’s hips stutter, and his hand tightens on Hux’s cock. Hux hisses and fucks into Ren’s fist. “And then you’d be able to take _this_ ,” Ren says. Ren pulls back, dragging the head of his cock along Hux’s perineum—Hux tries to press against it, desperate for any pressure on his prostate—and then presses it against Hux’s hole, rubbing it up and down the cleft of his ass. 

Hux struggles to stay upright, seized by both a bodily panic at the _size_ of Ren’s cock and lust at the idea of being able to take Ren’s cock, stretched to his limit and made sore for days just for the privilege of being able to clench down around Ren and make him scream. “I’d feed it into you slowly, let you adjust.”

“And then?” Hux prompts. He can feel his balls tightening—he’s getting close. Ren thrusts back into his already dripping thighs, and Hux clenches around him. It’s close to what he wants, but it’s not close enough.

“And then I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to stand up the next day,” Ren growls. “I’d come in you so hard you’d overflow. You’d be _dripping_ with my come. Is that what you want, _General_?”

Hux groans at the use of his title in conjunction with the idea of being full of Ren’s come. Oh, if he could take Ren’s cock without tearing in half, he would. “Yes,” Hux hisses, and he turns his head to kiss Ren savagely. 

After that, they fall silent, lost to the rhythm they’ve set. Ren comes, Hux’s thighs clenching around him, streaking Hux’s inner thighs with his seed. It’s a strange, wet feeling, to have his thighs soaked in Ren’s come, one that makes him ache. Hux fucks desperately into Ren’s fist, panting and whining, heedless of how wanton and _wet_ he looks. 

“You look good like that,” Ren sneers into his ear. “But I’d prefer to see my come dripping out of you.”

Hux comes with a whine at the idea of Ren’s come dribbling out of his red, overstretched hole, splattering the wall. 

Ren recedes from him, leaving him cold, shaking, and suddenly aware that he’s still mostly dressed. Ren’s rapidly cooling come drips down his thighs. He presses his forehead to the cool steel of the wall. This could get out of hand, if he’s not careful. 

He startles when Ren presses some rough fabric between his legs. “That better not be a rag covered in blaster oil,” Hux says, but it’s without heat. Ren says nothing as he finishes cleaning up Hux. He throws the come-soaked rag on the floor and pulls the tangle of Hux’s trousers and undergarments up, tucking him back in smartly. Ren’s bare hand on his oversensitive cock makes Hux’s mouth go dry.

Hux straightens up and refastens his shirt and jacket. As suspected, Ren’s bite has blossomed into a bruise that brushes up against his collar. He bites his lip at the feel of it. It’ll be worse tomorrow. He’ll feel it every time he turns his head.

Hux turns around and faces Ren. Ren is already dressed, helmet in his hands. They regard each other for a moment. Hux is uncomfortably aware of what he’s just done and with whom. 

Hux coughs and makes for the door. Ren reaches out a powerful arm, hooking him by the waist. “Well,” Ren says, casually, “shall we start your training tomorrow?”


	2. Her Name Was Janin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren breaks away from Hux’s mouth to hiss, in his ear, “Are you ready for me to open you up?”
> 
> Hux blinks, incredulous. “What, _now_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …yeah, I got nothing but three more chapters of this. Enjoy. Oh, today's Internet Bucks challenge is a lyric from Nine Inch Nails' "Closer." 
> 
> Updates Fridays.

Ren breaks away from Hux’s mouth to hiss, in his ear, “Are you ready for me to open you up?”

Hux blinks, incredulous. “What, _now_?”

The ambassador expects him in ten minutes—barely enough time for Ren to go down on him in the armory, which is what he thought the plan was. Not that Ren had actually consulted him before shoving him in here, kissing him senseless, and working a hand down his trousers. What, did Ren think he’ll let him finger him with just _spit_? Hux’s half-erection flags against Ren’s hand. 

Ren’s face twitches into a scowl and the arm wrapped around Hux’s waist goes stiff. He withdraws his hand from Hux’s trousers. “You’ve changed your mind.” His full lips, swollen from where Hux has been kissing him, are petulant. 

“No, it’s just that…” Hux trails off, trying to steady his breathing. It’s just that he didn’t think Ren was _serious_. He thought Ren was just sputtering filth—albeit very _effective_ filth—in his ear for their benefit, not making an actual offer. It’s been a few days since the supply closet, out of necessity, not desire, and Hux has lost some of the finer details of Ren’s litany of filth. But it was all about Hux being made ready for Ren’s outsized cock, by fingering and _plugging_ , just so Ren could… 

_I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to stand up the next day._ The memory of Ren snarling those words into his ear, breath hot and scalding on his face, makes his cock swell. But fantasy and reality are two very different and two very separate things for Hux, just as work and pleasure are to him. Or should be, even as he’s dancing on the razor’s edge of that boundary with this… _arrangement_ with Ren. 

Ren is still staring grimly at him, scowling. Hux trails a hand down his chest. “Ren,” he says, carefully. “I have a ship to run and a galaxy to conquer. I can’t spend all day on your hand. You’re distracting enough as is.” For once, Hux does not mean this cruelly, just objectively, but Ren’s brows knit and his nostrils flare. 

“You don’t want me,” Ren says.

“Don’t be stupid, Ren, I never said _that_ ,” Hux replies. “I do want you. I do want you to fuck me with _that_.” He grinds against Ren to make his point a little clearer, and his breath hitches at just the size of him. Sometimes Hux’s ambition overwhelms even himself. “But we have to be sensible about it.” He presses a hand to Ren’s face, pressing his thumb into the corner of Ren’s full mouth. Ren’s tongue flickers to his thumb, a seemingly involuntary action. “Be in my quarters as soon as my shift ends.” Hux tilts his head, staring into Ren’s eyes. “You can get started then.” 

Ren does not smile—Hux isn’t sure if he _can_ —but his face softens enough that Hux gives into the temptation to sink his teeth into that plush lower lip. Ren groans.

 

Hux almost expects, when his shift is over and he returns to his quarters, for Ren to be lurking at his door. But there is no such shadow at his doorstep. He _is_ a little late, held up by a brief technical malfunction that needed his direct attention. Perhaps Ren has returned to his own quarters, or, more likely, he’s as punctual for his personal appointments as he is for his professional ones. No matter. He can be easily summoned. Hux keys in his personal security code and enters his quarters.

He barely catches a glimpse of his ordered quarters and hears the quiet shush of the doors closing behind him before Ren appears out of nowhere and _attacks_ him, fisting his hands in his jacket and shoving him against the nearest wall. He nearly drives Hux up the wall with how closely he’s pressing himself against Hux, how ferociously he’s kissing him. Ren lets go of Hux’s jacket to grab at Hux’s hips. Ren lacks technique, Hux thinks, but doesn’t finish the thought because Ren slots their hips together and his massive cock is already _hard_ underneath the many layers of his robes. The idea of Ren pacing his quarters, mad and maybe even already dripping with lust for him, goes to Hux’s head.

“Eager, aren’t we—” Hux says, when Ren pulls back, panting, eyes dark and sharp. He’s aiming for arch, but Ren makes him groan when he nips at his jawline.

“You made me _wait_ ,” Ren growls against his skin. “Of course I’m eager.”

Hux can feel his face start to flush crimson as Ren’s mouth moves further down to lick and nip at the sensitive skin of his neck. To distract himself, he asks, “How did you get in here?” 

“Your security measures are nothing against the power of the Force,” Ren answers. He takes one hand off of Hux’s hip to open his collar just enough for him to close his teeth on the curve of Hux’s neck—where the last bruise he gave him is still a faint purple. Hux stifles a cry at the half-painful, half-pleasurable sensation of it, rubbing himself against Ren just to feel the sheer size of him. 

Ren makes an approving noise at that, and Hux shudder as he feels himself grow hard. It suddenly occurs to Hux that it’s perfectly possible that he might end up pressed against this wall all night if he doesn’t do something about it. “ _Stars_ , Ren,” Hux pants, rutting against him even as he chides him. “I have a perfectly good bed.”

Hux almost yelps when Ren grabs his ass to pick him up bodily and hoists him to nearly his waist. Hux instinctively twines his limbs around Ren, hooking his ankles together in an effort not to fall off as Ren carries him—with a slight effort, Hux notices approvingly–across his quarters to his perfectly made bed.

Which he then ruins by throwing Hux down on it, looming briefly, overwhelmingly above him. “You should undress,” Ren says, flicking his hair out of his face, and then straightens up. 

Hux takes a deep breath as Ren turns away from him. Without Ren physically on him, he suddenly feels a little self-conscious—a stupid, perverse thought, as he’s in his own bed. But that sense of self-consciousness only grows after he finishes stripping off his uniform and looks up to find that Ren has only tugged off his gloves and toed off his boots. Ren turns back and his dark eyes rake over Hux’s body. Hux feels himself flush and stiffen further at the look in his eyes. 

“I don’t need to disrobe for what I’m going to do to you,” Ren says, as if answering him, and Hux doesn’t know if Ren read his thoughts or simply picked up on his emotional state. Hux takes another deep breath to steady himself, crossing his legs and hunching over as if to protect himself.

“I don’t have anything,” Hux says.

“I have not come unprepared.” Ren’s voice is calm, and it strikes Hux that this is the gentlest he’s ever heard Ren speak. He hates that he—a grown man!—apparently needs a little soothing, but he does appreciates Ren’s effort nonetheless. 

Ren circles Hux’s bed as if he’s been in here before. Hux wonders if he has—if Ren had been waiting for him in his own bed, maybe fondling himself through his robes in anticipation. The idea both disgusts and thrills him. Ren takes a hither-to-unseen utilitarian and unmarked jar from the bedside console and palms it in both his hands as he kneels in front of Hux on the bed. With Ren’s robes and solemn expression, the gesture takes on an oddly ritualistic quality. It takes a moment for Hux to realize that Ren is simply warming up whatever oil is in the jar for him. He feels a surge of heat up his thighs at the idea of Ren applying warm oil to him, and finds himself at full attention. He licks his lips, swallows. 

Ren’s steady gaze on him changes, growing hungrier. Hux’s skin prickles as his neck flushes red. Soon, Hux knows, he’ll be crimson all over. “Lay on your side,” Ren commands.

“No,” Hux says, surprising himself with how clear and steady his voice is. “No. I want to see your face.” 

“I never took you for a sentimental man, General.”

Hux smiles at Ren. “If I can’t see your mouth, my Lord Ren, how can I imagine those pretty lips wrapped around my cock?” 

Ren raises an eyebrow, said lips quirking, but nods. Without being prompted, Hux unfolds his legs and leans backwards to recline against the bed. He pulls his knees up and spreads his legs, exposing himself. Ren’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes do catch on Hux’s hole when Hux tilts his hips up. Hux feels a little thrill of victory at that—that he can affect Ren the same way Ren affects him. 

Ren shuffles inelegantly on the bed to crouch between Hux’s knees, leaning down close enough to kiss Hux. Hux avails himself of the option, swiping his tongue against the willing heat of Ren’s mouth until Ren opens his mouth and admits him. Hux’s cock aches, powerfully. 

There’s a scraping noise as Ren unscrews the top of the jar, and Hux breaks away from his mouth to watch Ren. He’s suddenly very aware of his heartbeat thundering in his ear, throbbing in his cock. Ren sets aside the top of the jar with a fastidiousness that should be alien to him and dips two fingers into the oil. It’s thick and viscous, light catching it obscenely as it shines on Ren’s fingers and drips onto Hux’s bed. Hux swallows.

Ren reaches out with his dry hand and runs his hand over Hux’s inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Hux realizes it’s a distraction when Ren’s wet fingers trace down his perineum and over his hole. He shivers. Hux knows he should relax, _wants_ to relax, _wills_ himself to relax, but his body insists on clenching down when Ren tries to gently press his index finger into him. He feels, briefly and stupidly, as if it’s a personal weakness that he hasn’t simply opened up to Ren. 

But that doesn’t seem to deter Ren, who simply rotates his wrist so that his palm is facing up. He begins tracing a light, erratic pattern over Hux’s perineum and hole. He rubs Hux’s thigh in that soothing and slightly condescending way that nonetheless makes heat build in Hux’s lower belly. Hux rolls his hips to follow the sensation. 

“You’re so tight,” Ren says, stating the obvious, and Hux rolls his eyes, even as his face burns. “It’s like you’ve never taken.”

“I have,” Hux says, quickly. He glances down and focuses on Ren’s hand and softly undulating fingers, swallowing when Ren presses a knuckle into his perineum. “But it’s been a while.”

Ren darts in and kisses his neck, making Hux arch up towards him. “Tell me about them.” 

Hux blinks. What an odd request. No one in his bed has ever asked about who came before them. “Janin. Her name was Janin.” Janin von Truer at the time, now Janin von Truer Kalb. “She’d only use her fingers on me, though, she didn’t like to put anything else in me.”

“I want to _feel_ you from the inside,” she’d told him as she had fingered him open, working his cock with her other hand, kissing him as he came. That had been a few years ago, just before his promotion to the rank of General. Janin had ended their mutually beneficial arrangement when she’d met Captain Kalb. It surprises Hux to realize just how long his bed has been cold. In his defense, he has a good reason. 

But thinking of Janin’s impish, triumphant expression on the occasions that she’d managed to make him come with her fingers alone relaxes Hux. Enough for Ren to press his middle finger into him, his second knuckle brushing against his dripping, oiled rim. Someone makes a small, breathy, keening noise, and Hux is surprised to realize that it’s _him._

Ren’s finger feels huge inside of him, and there’s a squelching noise as Ren pulls it back a little. He pumps his finger in and out of Hux slowly, and Hux’s cock throbs every time one of Ren’s thick knuckles brushes against his hole. Janin’s hands were—and presumably still are—long and slender, with elegant, clever fingers. Ren’s hands are decidedly more impressive. 

Hux glances up to find that Ren is looking at him with such naked lust and hunger that it makes Hux swallow, shiver, and ache. He finds himself arching up towards Ren, inadvertently taking his finger deeper. “Your body remembers how it’s done,” Ren murmurs over him. He traces his thumb down Hux’s perineum and over Hux’s oiled rim. Hux cries out and tries to bear down on that sweet pressure. Ren does not modulate the speed at which he’s plunging his finger in and out of Hux’s body—slow, steady. Maddening. Hux watches as his cock leaks precome and moans when Ren ducks his head down to catch the bead of it, wet tongue rasping too briefly against Hux’s swollen length. 

Ren smirks at him, licking his lips showily, and presses his slick index finger against Hux’s rim. Hux takes this one easier, and the feeling of two of Ren’s fingers in him makes his mind glitch at the edges. Ren pauses, letting him adjust, and then returns to slowly fucking Hux with his fingers. Hux whines and drops his head as Ren brushes against his prostate. Ren is watching him intently, he knows, but he can no longer meet his gaze. Instead, he focuses on his stomach, flushed red, and his dripping, unattended cock. He feels both close to and far from his orgasm. He wonders if Ren is doing that to him, by some perverse misuse of the Force. His heavy breathing sounds so loud in his own ear. 

After a moment, Hux pulls his left leg up further with his hand to give Ren room for another, but a third finger never comes.

“Only—” Hux swallows and groans as Ren presses on his prostate. “Only two?” His voice sounds out-of-breath and strange to him. 

“You’re not ready for more,” Ren says, as matter-of-factly as an attending physician.

Hux lifts his head and meets Ren’s eyes. “You think you know my body better than I?”

Ren scissors his fingers vigorously against Hux’s inner walls, the movement stunted by how tight Hux still is. Hux involuntarily arches his back to allow him greater access, but Ren’s fingers can go no further. “Yes,” Ren says, a note of condescension in his voice that makes Hux flush down to his trembling thighs. “Yes, I do.”

Hux’s pride wants him to protest, insist that he can take more, but he knows he can’t. It’s been too long since someone opened him up like this, and nothing could have prepared him for Ren—in any shape, form, or _size_.

Hux ducks his head again as Ren’s fingers skate over his prostate. He feels like his body is vibrating from how hard his cock is aching and throbbing, how hard he’s trembling. “Open your eyes,” Ren commands, softly, and Hux didn’t realize he’d closed them. He’s too far gone to be ashamed of how quickly and easily he obeys. Ren smirks at him. “I don’t want you to miss this.”

And then Ren’s mouth is on his cock, swallowing him to the hilt in one easy, fluid motion. Hux has a brief moment of lucidity to wonder if this is another Force trick before he feels the muscles of Ren’s throat contract wetly around him. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he gasps. Ren plunges his fingers in and out of Hux as he fucks his throat on Hux’s cock. Hux makes a choked, sobbing noise and comes with a violent spasm, spilling down Ren’s hungry throat as it constricts around his length. 

He doesn’t realize he’s grabbed Ren by the hair, trapping him on his cock, until Ren makes a gagging noise. He unfists his hands from Ren’s hair and Ren pulls up, Hux’s softening cock falling heavily and obscenely out of his mouth as he withdraws his fingers and wipes them on the bedding. He coughs once and pants. His lips are wet, and despite how boneless Hux feels, he surges forward to kiss Ren and pull at his garments, the disparate textures of his robes rioting against his skin.

He means to pull Ren down onto the bed, to roll him over and see just how much of his massive cock he can get his mouth around, but Ren presses against his chest to stop him. “No,” he says, kissing Hux. “Not yet.”

Hux blinks, confused—he can feel how hard Ren is under his hand. But he pulls back.

If only he’d known sooner that the secret to making Ren patient was the promise of letting Ren fuck him with his oversized cock. Hux feels himself clench on nothing at the thought of taking Ren. Careful, he thinks. He needs to be careful about this. 

Hux kisses him again and lets Ren push him back down onto the bed. Ren clambers backwards, awkwardly, off of the bed. He rakes his eyes one last time over Hux, obviously pleased with his handiwork, and then he steps away. Hux closes his eyes and listens to Ren rearranging himself back into the Master of his order—putting his boots back on, and the click and quiet, hissing noise of the helmet as he puts it back on. 

He falls asleep before he realizes it.


	3. Milestones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s frustrating to have Ren’s self-control in the palm of his hands and not be able to do a damn thing about it. 
> 
> (Updates Fridays.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's Internet Bucks challenge: a deeply oblique _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ reference!

After two days, it becomes a routine.

Hux realizes that most people would not want to describe their sex lives as such, but he did not rise to his station in life by being most people. The routine he and Ren have established appeals deeply to his sense of order and structure, his understanding that there is a time and place for everything, including this. In any case, one must first establish a routine in order to savor the variations in it. 

So, routinely, Hux wakes up alone. He goes on shift. He returns to his quarters. He finds Ren meditating on his bed, fully dressed save his extremities, face calm, eyes _hungry_. And then Ren does whatever he deems necessary to Hux so he can eventually accommodate Ren’s massive cock. 

Like laying Hux across his lap and working three slick fingers into him, promising to split him open with the thick erection Hux can feel digging into his sternum. When Ren traces his other hand up his neck and thrusts two fingers inside his mouth, Hux thinks, _He’s filling me from both ends_ , and comes with a muffled cry. 

It’s certainly something to look forward to. 

To call Ren a generous lover would be a stretch, but Hux is discovering that the Knight can be perfectly attentive and patient to get what he wants—which, lately, seems to be whispering filth into Hux’s ear while fingering him until he screams and not letting Hux pay him back in kind. 

Ren has persisted in refusing to undress or even let Hux touch his cock. At first, that was fine with Hux. If Ren wants to save him the effort of getting him off, so be it. But it soon grew frustrating, which is undoubtedly Ren’s perverse plan. It’s _unfair_ that Ren is mapping out the landscape of his body in excruciating detail while Hux is left in the dark about Ren’s. What little he has access to, he’s already subconsciously memorized—the callouses on Ren’s hands, the two moles above his left eyebrow, the exact angle to kiss Ren’s neck to make his breathing hitch, throat contracting under Hux’s tongue.

It’s not that Ren doesn’t want Hux to touch him. Hux sees how his pupils dilate in the dark, hears how his breathing hitches, feels his straining erection pulse against his thigh. Ren just won’t let him, not until he’s able to fuck Hux properly. 

It’s frustrating to have Ren’s self-control in the palm of his hands and not be able to do a damn thing about it. 

 

One night, Hux arrives in his quarters to find Ren sitting on his bed with something in his hand. 

Hux knew the plug was coming, eventually, but he’s been so preoccupied by the final stages of constructing the oscillator and, to be brutally honest, Ren’s fingers, that he hasn’t spared a thought to wonder about Ren’s undoubtedly haphazard training schedule. 

The plug is matte black and bigger than anything Hux’s used on himself or a partner before. To be fair, that doesn’t mean much—his lovers have all had something else they preferred to penetrate him with, be it their fingers or their cock. It’s a fairly abstract representation of a shortened phallus, save for the necessary flared base, which curves slightly. 

Ren toys with it as he watches Hux disrobe and fold his garments in a neat pile at the foot of the bed. Hux has largely gotten over his self-consciousness at being naked while Ren remains clothed through sheer repetition. But once he’s stripped out of his uniform, bending over a little to pull off his socks, he suddenly finds that he can’t make himself meet Ren’s eyes. 

Hux screws his face up at the floor. Ren’s the only person he’s ever met that intimidates him so viscerally. He wonders if that’s why he’s found himself in this position. If that’s why he’s drawn to Ren in this very specific way. 

Hux exhales loudly, dismissing the thought. He straightens up, still staring at his feet, and moves to sit on the edge of his bed, perpendicular to Ren, to buy himself some time to regain his equilibrium. He takes in a deep breath and breathes it out slowly.

There’s a brief, silent moment, and then Hux feels Ren’s hand on his back. It shifts to his waist as Ren leans over to kiss his shoulder. The plug apparently goes forgotten as Hux feels Ren’s other hand at his waist, squeezing hard enough to make him sigh. Hux lets Ren pull him onto his lap. Ren reclines, settling his back against the headboard, hooking his chin over Hux’s left shoulder. His hands roam over his chest and stomach, and Hux feels his cock begin to stir to attention. 

Ren is warm against his back, the now familiar texture of his robes pleasant against his skin. He can now tell each garment apart just by texture—the lacquered cotton of the cloak, the thick fabric of the tunic, the leather of the leggings. Ren’s cock, noticeably thick even through all those layers, presses against his spine, already half-hard. _Wasteful_ , Hux thinks. Or it would be if it wasn’t what they were working so hard towards.

Not that he’s not enjoying the journey. Hux rolls his hips, trying to encourage Ren to take his steadily swelling cock in hand, but Ren’s calloused hands ignore him and maintain their course. Hux gulps when Ren tweaks a nipple, feeling them both stiffen in response. 

Ren chuckles, and then leans up a little to mouth and nuzzle at his neck. Ren likes Hux’s neck, or, more accurately, the little sounds Hux makes when he nips at his neck. There’s a cartography of light bruises across Hux’s shoulders, all in various stages of healing. Ren, Hux has discovered, likes to mark his territory. The idea of Ren considering him _territory_ disgusts and thrills him, enough to make him fully hard. 

“Show me,” Ren murmurs into his ear.

“Show you—show you what?” Hux asks, trying not to pant. 

Ren kisses the corner of his jaw, opening his mouth against Hux’s ear, wet and hot. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone.”

Hux nods slightly and parts his legs, hooking his knees over Ren’s thighs. He wraps his left hand around his shaft. He prefers masturbating with his off hand—easier to paw at his own chest with his right and pretend the one on his cock isn’t his. Ren lays his hand on top of Hux’s, thrilling him, and stops him, frustrating him. 

“No,” Ren corrects. “Not when you’re pretending this is just another bodily function. Show me how you touch yourself when you’re _lonely_.” Ren rubs against him gently, breath hitching as he teases himself. “When you want somebody, anybody, to take pity on you and fill you up.” 

_Oh_ , Hux realizes. Ren wants him to finger himself open. 

Hux seldom does it to himself, which is half the reason they’re taking such extraordinary measures for Hux to take Ren, the other half being Ren’s monstrous cock. Hux licks his lips. “I’ll need—” Before he can finish his request, Ren hands him the jar of oil. It’s low. They’ll need another, soon, and being faced with the evidence of their nocturnal activities makes Hux’s mouth go dry and his balls ache. 

He tilts his hips up, pressing his lower back into Ren, soliciting a a little grunting noise that sends a small thrill of victory through him. He takes the jar of oil and opens it, swiping two fingers into the thick stuff before setting it down. Ren reaches down to rub at inside of his thigh with his left hand as Hux tucks his fingers down the crease of his thigh to press at his puckering hole. 

He’s feeling a little self-conscious again with Ren watching him, their heads pressed so closely together that all Hux is smelling is Ren’s warm hair. Hux closes his eyes against the feeling and tries to focus. It feels different, doing it to himself after Ren’s been so confidently stretching him open with his impressive fingers. But Ren has prepared him well, and it only takes a few minutes before he’s got two fingers in and out of himself. He feels no small amount of pride at this, given his long dry spell. 

“Look at _you_ ,” Ren murmurs, condescendingly, and the hand on Hux’s thigh abandons its post to turn Hux’s head so Ren can kiss him. Hux relaxes into it. It feels _good_ , having Ren warm against his back, having slow fingers inside of himself, having Ren kiss him with building heat. But it’s not enough. He wishes it was Ren’s fingers inside of him. He wishes it was Ren’s cock. 

Hux gasps suddenly into Ren’s mouth when he feels something decidedly inorganic press at his now-oiled knuckles. Hux instinctively flexes his fingers away from the intrusion, inadvertently driving them further into himself and jabbing at his prostate. He gives a startled moan, his cock leaking. He feels Ren’s lips curve into a smirk against his. It’s the plug, Hux belatedly realizes. He pulls back, his face burning, eyes glaring, and removes his fingers. 

Ren presses the plug against his stomach as he reaches for the jar. The plug’s matte surface makes it look like it’s swallowing light up, like it’s an extension of Ren. Hux watches as Ren smears oil on it, transforming the surface. Hux swallows, licks his lips. 

Once finished, Ren holds up the glistening plug. Oil drips off of it and onto Hux’s stomach, which contracts at the wetness. “Still won’t wear it during the day for me?” he asks. 

Hux pants and rolls his eyes. “You know I can’t.”

Ren makes a neutral humming noise, one that reverberates through his chest and Hux’s back. “Do you _want_ to?”

“Irrelevant,” he should say, but, instead, he says, “Yes.” 

“Wear it while you sleep, then. Can you do that for me?” There’s condescension in Ren’s tone, but Hux’s head swims with the idea of waking up _full_ —it’ll make him hard, he’ll wake up just about to come… 

“Yes,” Hux breathes.

“Good,” Ren says, and falls silent, pressing the head of the plug against his slick hole. It didn’t look so large in Ren’s hands, Hux thinks, but then everything is out of proportion on Ren, including _Ren_. Ren feeds it into him slowly, filling him. “Breathe, breathe,” Ren murmurs, as if Hux needs the reminder. Hux squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on relaxing instead of just surrendering to the sensation of it. Ren mouthes at his shoulder, and then it’s all the way in. 

Hux takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. He feels full. Experimentally, he clenches around it, gasping at how it moves in him, making his cock throb and his skin prickle. 

“How does it feel?” Ren asks. 

Hux swallows. “Good,” he says, carefully. If he strings any more words together, he’ll choke on them. “Big.” 

“Not as big as me,” Ren says matter-of-factly, and then he’s moving the plug in and out of Hux. The strokes are short, due to the plug’s size, but that—that’s _enough_. It’s long enough to hit his prostate and wide enough to stretch him, drag against his inner walls in a way that makes him pant and whine like an animal. 

Ren presses their heads together, leaning up to kiss Hux’s ear, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. He gives a particularly rough trust of the plug into Hux, and Hux tilts his hips into it, back arching off of Ren’s chest.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ren murmurs into his ear. “You’re thinking that this is what it’s going to feel like when I fuck you.”

Hux swallows. He wasn’t, actually, but now he is. He’s being penetrated from the wrong angle, but it’s the right position—Ren pressed up behind him, practically cradling him, breath hot in his ear. 

“You’re wrong. It won’t be like this. This is too easy.” Ren punctuates his sentence by dragging the plug slowly out of Hux and then fucking it back into him with a forceful gesture. Something goes spotty at the edge of Hux’s vision. “I’m much bigger than this,” Ren says, rubbing his dick against Hux’s back for emphasis, and Hux savors the panting whine Ren makes as he teases himself. _Serves him right_ , he thinks, _for withholding_. “You’re going to be so tight. You’re barely going to fit around my cock, General.” 

Hux’s eyes roll back, but Ren, perversely, starts going slower, edging him _away_ from coming. Hux grunts in frustration, throwing his head back. “But I’ll make you fit,” Ren murmurs, sickeningly sweet. “I’m _making_ you fit,” he growls, quietly. 

Ren reaches around Hux to palm his aching cock. His hand is slick from preparing the plug. He presses Hux’s length to his stomach, rubbing his palm up and down the shaft as he continues pumping the toy in and out of Hux’s clenching hole. It’s too much stimulus, and Hux hits some internal limit. He goes limp against Ren, biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood to keep from begging Ren to just let him come. 

“You know,” Ren says, thoughtfully, “I think I’ll be able to see it bulging out of your stomach.”

 _Fantasy and reality_ , Hux thinks, hazily and automatically. That’s not going to happen—Hux isn’t as delicate and small as Ren likes to tell him he is. But the idea of being so full of Ren’s massive cock that he’s visibly _distended_ —

Hux comes so hard he _screams_ and spasms, driving an elbow backwards into Ren’s chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him. His vision goes black and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with a roaring noise that eventually, after a few moments, turns out to be the sound of his own panting breath in his ear. It takes a moment for him to regain the edges of things. It takes him another moment, once he’s come down from _that_ , to realize that there’s wetness on his stomach—his own come, aimed there by Ren’s hand. He glances down at it. 

“Filthy,” he chides, weakly, even as the sight and feel of it sends a faint, warm thrill through his body. Ren has shifted his hands from the plug and Hux’s cock to his hips, undoubtedly to keep him steady while he was thrashing. Hux manages a deep breath, and Ren gently slides him down to sit between his legs. The plug jars as he lands, and Hux shivers. He feels dazed. He feels boneless. 

He also feels Ren’s undoubtedly aching erection pressing into his back. Hux twists, awkwardly, the plug shifting within him, and braces his left hand on Ren’s powerful right thigh to kiss him. Ren melts against him, cupping his face, and kisses him greedily. Hux turns around, knees digging painfully into the thin mattress, pressing his hands into Ren’s chest. And down it. But when Hux’s hands brush against Ren’s straining bulge, Ren grabs his wrists. Hux grimaces at the wet of Ren’s left hand.

“No,” Ren says.

Hux grimaces. “Ren, _please_ , just let me—”

“Look at you.” Ren actually _smiles_ , pleased, and the alienness of that soft expression on Ren’s grim face manages to chill Hux to his core. Ren trails his fingers down Hux’s side, brushing his ribs, before grabbing Hux’s ass. Hux’s affront is cut short as the plug jars within him, and he feels a weak heat, impossibly, at that. “Plugged. Covered in come.” Ren smiles again. Hux wishes he wouldn’t. “ _Begging_ for my cock.” 

“Don’t be _absurd_ ,” Hux tries to scoff, but his seeking tone makes a liar of him. “You can’t keep denying yourself like this, you have to be _desperate_ for _something_ , anything…”

He twists one of his wrists and breaks out of Ren’s grasp. He brushes his fingers against Ren’s straining, clothed cock and Ren’s face _contorts_ as he makes a perfect whining noise that Hux savors. “You see,” Hux says, triumphantly. “You are desperate.” 

“I am desperate,” Ren agrees, voice and face strained. “I want to fuck you so much. You’re going to feel so _good_ around my cock, Hux. I want to come in you.” He traces Hux’s jawline, and Hux tips his chin up almost involuntarily, chasing the touch of his fingers. “But I can wait until you’re ready to take me.” 

Ren’s eyes flutter closed, brows knitting. He suddenly grows _cold_ under Hux, and Hux feels his erection soften far too quickly under his hand. Hux recognizes the Force and instinctively recoils from it, powerfully enough to propel himself backwards and off the bed. 

_Witchcraft_ , Hux thinks. Ren’s face has fallen passive, lush mouth open, but the sight of Ren communing with the Force fills him with a strange kind of dread. “I’m going to clean myself off,” he announces, before Ren comes back to reality.

When Hux returns to his bed, freshly showered, plug pleasantly heavy within him, Ren is gone. 

 

Hux’s entire day has been a headache, starting with the New Republican Senate suddenly getting very interested in the Outer Rim’s sudden manufacturing boom (Senator Organa hard at work again, he knows) and ending with unexpected attacks on their third largest kyber crystal mining facility. By the time his shift ends, he’s worn to the bone. 

He heads directly to his quarters and arrives early enough to catch Ren sitting on the edge of his bed, taking off his boots. Something twists in his stomach at this domestic sight, which he misidentifies as disgust. Hux strips efficiently as he moves towards the bed to ward off the feeling.

“Quickly,” he barks, climbing onto the bed, straddling Ren. Ren looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. He traces a still-gloved hand up the back of Hux’s thigh. Hux shivers hard enough at that rough leather against his skin that he lowers himself on his knees to sit on Ren’s lap to save himself from toppling over. 

Ren grabs his chin with the same hand, and the smell of leather and Ren go to Hux’s head enough to make his head tilt back. “You’re tired.” 

“Oh, _well-spotted_ , Ren,” Hux scowls. As if Ren isn’t part of the problem.

Ren examines him for a moment, and then seems to make an internal decision. “Lay on me,” Ren commands. He leans back to lie flat on the mattress, knees hanging off the edge of it. 

Hux glances down at him, and rolls his hips, rubbing against Ren’s cock. He stirs underneath, and Hux feels an odd sense of relief. He tries not to think of the look on Ren’s face when he managed to quell his erection by Force. “You sure you can manage?” Hux asks.

“I can control myself, as you well know.” Ren says impassively. He reaches up to touch Hux’s shoulder, leather scraping on skin. 

Hux nods and leans down to press himself against Ren, head against his shoulder. Ren’s strong arms wind around him, and he huffs when Ren pulls at his right knee to drape his leg over Ren’s stomach. 

Hux closes his eyes and listens. He listens to the sound of Ren breathing, the sound of the air in the ventilation shafts, the sound of Ren opening the jar of oil. Hux gasps, quietly, when Ren gently inserts two wet fingers in him. The oil is cold. Ren scissors his fingers, brushing against Hux’s prostate, but by now, it’s perfunctory. Hux is opening up more and more every day. He pushes his face into Ren’s chest when the head of the latest plug is introduced, slick against his hole. Hux doesn’t know where Ren is getting these things—perhaps he’s making them—but they’ve been successively bigger each night. 

Ren traces circles with the head of the plug around his rim until Hux is able to relax. It slides in easily halfway, and then, with some effort on Hux’s part, all the way. He feels, strangely, proud at how easily he’s taken this one. _Milestones are important in the motivation of troops_ , he thinks, absurdly, and he chuckles at the free association against Ren’s chest. He opens his eyes and glances up at Ren, who is watching him with half-lidded eyes and a soft, solemn expression. 

This is usually the point when Ren begins to tell him things, murmur filth into his ear, but, tonight Ren doesn’t say anything. He just taps gently at the base of the plug until Hux is panting into his neck and leaking precome against his robes as he ruts against him. Ren rubs his gloved hand up and down his back in a soothing motion that sends weak shivers up and down Hux’s spine. Hux knows if he were more alert, being treated so gently might shame him, anger him, but… he’s bone tired. And Ren is warm and solid and, by now, _familiar._

Hux grinds against Ren, and tonight, Ren lets him.

It occurs to Hux that he could probably make Ren come like this. It’s the most control Ren’s given him so far, presumably because he doesn’t think Hux has the energy to do anything but let Ren fuck him with the plug. Ren’s erection is warm and thick against the crease of his thigh. All he would have to do is shift a handful of centimeters to the right to slot their hips together and grind down until Ren comes. _What a stupid idea_ , Hux thinks, _denying himself like this_. Hux thinks of kissing Ren’s neck, thinks of Ren coming with a choked noise that makes a heavy knot in his throat underneath Hux’s mouth. The idea makes him sigh as Ren keeps fucking him with the plug.

But Hux does no such thing. He finds that he doesn’t want that. Whatever Ren’s playing at, he wants to see how it plays out. He wants Ren to unleash himself when the moment comes, spurred on by these days of self-denial to fuck him like a wild beast. 

Ren gently twists the plug inside of Hux. Hux comes with a soft groan into Ren’s shoulder, spilling onto Ren’s tunic. Ren says nothing and just keeps rubbing his back. For the first time since he arrived on the command deck this morning, Hux feels relaxed. Listening to Ren breathe under him, he feels sleep begin to claim him.

“Stay,” Hux murmurs into Ren’s neck as he falls asleep.

When he wakes up, he’s in his bed, on his side. And alone. 

 

“Given the unexpected increased efficiency in this manufacturing sector, I see no reason why Starkiller Base could not be fully functional within the year.”

“You have done well, General,” Supreme Leader Snoke intones. Pride blooms extravagantly in Hux’s chest, but he only allows it to manifest in an upward curve of his lip and a curt, respectful nod. Supreme Leader’s great head swivels elegantly, despite his mutilation, to focus his good eye on Ren. 

Ren steps forward, helmet under his arm, eyes respectfully downcast, to receive the word of his master. “Ren,” Supreme Leader acknowledges him. “There have been rumors of a Jedi healer in the Western Reaches.” 

“A charlatan,” Ren says, lifting his eyes up to his master’s. “I have cleansed the galaxy of their kind.”

 _Save Skywalker_ , Hux thinks, knowing that Supreme Leader is thinking the same thing. 

“Who has successfully cured an entire village of late stage gray rot,” Supreme Leader continues, as if Ren had never spoken. 

“That does not necessarily indicate Force sensitivity.” 

“Nonetheless, I am sending you to investigate this claim and, if necessary, exterminate its source. And anyone else it has _contaminated_.” 

For a moment, Hux wonders if Ren will have something to say back to a direct order, but Ren nods and drops his gaze. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“I have made the preparations. You will leave immediately.” 

“Understood.” 

It’s only after they’ve left the briefing room, walking briskly side by side down a thinly populated main corridor, that Hux realizes that this is something that he doesn’t want.

They don’t speak of their arrangement outside of Hux’s quarters. Ren has taken his admonishments to heart. Their professional relationship has actually _improved_ somewhat, although Hux suspects this might be because Ren can take his frustrations out on him in a new and much more productive way.

Ren’s immediate departure significantly disturbs their plans. 

They turn down a corridor that, after a few steps, seems obviously deserted. Hux stops in his tracks. Ren takes a step forward before turning around. 

“General?” Ren asks. He’s put the helmet back on—he only ever unmasks for Supreme Leader and, lately, Hux—and his low voice is calm even through the vocal distorter. Hux stares into the black void that separate Ren’s eyes from his. 

“What of my…” Hux lowers his voice, glancing around for any witnesses out of habit. “What of my training?”

Ren has no such compunctions about witnesses. He reaches out and catches Hux’s chin between his thumb and index finger. The gesture—where _anyone_ could see them, should their duties compel them down this corridor—horrifies and thrills Hux in equal measure. “You will continue in my absence.”

Ren tilts his great, helmed head, and Hux wonders, for a moment, if Ren will kiss him goodbye. The childish thought settles poorly in his stomach. Ren, mercifully, does no such thing. Instead, he presses his gloved thumb against Hux’s thin lower lip. Hux doesn’t let his gaze drop from Ren’s masked face as he presses his mouth against Ren’s thumb, licking the pad of the digit. Ren straightens up, as surprised at Hux’s daring as Hux is. The gloved hand on his chin trails down his chin and his neck to his clavicle. Ren presses into Hux’s latest bruise, making Hux’s breath catch. His face is prickling with heat. 

It is impossible to read expression into Ren’s helmet—which is its entire purpose—but he seems pleased. “We will resume upon my return,” Ren says, patting his clavicle proprietarily. 

And then he turns on his heels, leaving Hux feeling unsatisfied and, somehow, exposed.


	4. Something Close to Tender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re back,” he says, obviously. Unwarranted, peculiar warmth spreads through him. Ren’s eyes search his face, and his brows furrow. 
> 
> “You missed me,” Ren says. He sounds surprised.
> 
> Hux feels his face start to flush. If he opens his mouth, he’s going to say something, so he doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, kitkats, it's been a wild ride, but we've finally arrived at our destination. Thanks for coming along! <3

Despite the haste of his departure, Ren has nonetheless managed to leave Hux a parting gift.

Hux, hair damp from his quick shower, purses his lips as he settles onto his bed. The plug is the same as all the others—matte black, abstract—but it’s the biggest yet, big enough to rival his own member. He wonders if it’s the last one.

He wonders if Ren would even tell him if it was. 

Well, Ren hardly left him a note. After Ren’s early departure, Hux’s afternoon had been so productive that he determined to make the most of Ren’s absence—in both matters professional and personal. Given the nature of his mission for Supreme Leader Snoke, it seems likely Ren will be missing from his bed for the next few nights. In the meantime, he will indulge himself. 

Before stepping into the refresher, Hux had dropped the other part of Ren’s parting gift—a fresh jar of oil—into a glass of warm water. He retrieves it now and lies down. “Lights off,” Hux calls out into the room, and he’s plunged into darkness.

For a moment, he simply breathes, letting his eyes adjust. Once he can make out the edges of things in the dark, he grabs his slowly stirring cock with his left hand and begins to touch himself—slowly. If he was simply masturbating to relieve himself, or help himself sleep, he’d have done it in the refresher, quickly, efficiently. But plugging himself will require a different approach. 

He strokes his palm up his shaft, and then his fingertips down it, avoiding the head, slowly teasing himself, until his cock is fully engorged and his hips tilt up of their own accord. Biting his lip, he pulls his hand away. 

Hux reaches for the jar and opens it, lubricating his fingers briskly. It’s warm, though not as warm as he would like. He lifts his head up to look down at himself. His body is an indeterminate color in the darkness of his quarters, only his sharp angles highlighted. This is why he prefers the darkness—to better hide his hollows, how his skin flushes and mottles.

Not that Ren’s let him hide anything.

Hux takes a deep breath and pushes Ren from his mind. He reaches down with his right hand, balancing his wrist on the slim meat of his thigh. He drops his head, humming a little, as he traces a slick trail down his perineum. For a moment, he just strokes two fingers over and around his rim. Heat slowly builds under his skin, until just pressing against his hole makes his cock leak precome. He squeezes his eyes shut and pants, skin flushing. 

He fingers himself open as briskly as he dares. By now, with a little patience, he can fit four fingers into himself. He does so now, pressing his thumb into his perineum as he crooks a finger to press against his prostate. The external and internal pressure against that little bundle of nerves makes him gasp, back arching at the sensation. He’s panting a little. He feels warm.

Hux resists the urge to just finger himself—it’s still novel to him, fingering himself instead of having someone else do it to him—and withdraws his fingers. His hole contracts on nothing, and that sends a rising surge of pleasure up his body. 

Hux reaches out blindly for the plug, which has been lying next to him as if in place of Ren. As he picks it up, he’s surprised by the weight of it in his hands. Ren has handled all of the plugs so far, wielding them like an extension of his body. The memory of it makes Hux’s cock ache even as he dismisses it. He wonders what what the plug made out of it—rubber on the outside, obviously, but perhaps there’s a metal core to add weight?—until he realizes he’s stalling. 

Hux lubricates it carefully, thoroughly, twisting his hand around it until the matte surface glistens thickly in the dark. His eyelids flutter shut when he presses the blunt head of the plug against his hole and it slips in nearly an inch without any resistance. He feels a flush of pride at his progress, at the simple fact of being able to do something he could not do before. Taking a deep breath, he pushes the thing slowly into himself. His face contorts as he suppresses a cry when the wet fingers clutching the base bump against his stretched hole. Heat runs through him. 

For a moment, Hux savors how _full_ he feels, letting his inner walls relax. All the plugs have been satisfying, but this is the first one whose size makes it feel remotely like the real thing. He places his free hand on his chest, to both center himself and to rub and tug at his nipple, biting his lip at the pleasurable sensation. 

His panting breath grows louder as he falls into a pattern—push, pull, push, pull. It’s nothing like being fucked by a partner, but he soon finds his hips meeting his own thrusts. He groans, twisting the plug a little as he thrusts in. 

He pulls the thing out of himself partway and strains his head up to get a better look at it. In the dark of his quarters, he can’t see his hand, just something glistening between his thighs, as if he’s not attached to it. He wonders what it must look like at the point of penetration, but he can’t contort himself to see.

Hux lets his head drop and continues to fuck himself with the plug. His free hand drifts down his chest and stomach to take his aching cock in his hand. He strokes, twisting a little at the head, making little keening noises as he finds himself caught between the stimulation on both ends.

It feels so _good_ , but he finds himself unable to summit. He slows his hand around his cock—perhaps he’s going too quickly?—but that makes no difference. It’s something else. Something’s missing.

Ren’s missing.

The thought of Ren makes Hux open his eyes. His hand stills on the plug, but not his cock. It’s not unreasonable to think of Ren in this moment. This time last night, on this very bed, he’d come down Ren’s throat with a howl while Ren fucked him with a plug, and the memory makes his cock throb and leak. But he finds the idea that he’s somehow grown dependent on Ren for a basic bodily function distasteful. He’s survived most of his adult life without Ren there to complicate it. He can certainly do something as basic as get himself off on his own. 

His hand cramps and he abandons the flange of the half-inserted toy without thinking. He gasps as his body draws it in further on its own, sucking it almost greedily into him. _Look how much you want it_ , he can almost hear Ren’s voice, and he tightens his grip on his cock to keep from coming at those imagined words. 

Hux doesn’t _need_ Ren.

But he _wants_ him so badly. 

Hux squeezes his eyes shut and begins to roll his hips to jar the plug inside of him, jerking himself off furiously as he thinks of Ren. He wonders where Ren is. He wonders if Ren knows what he’s done to him, what he’s doing to him _right now_ , despite being light years apart. He gasps as he feels his balls tighten. He twists, back arching, nearly pressing his face into his sheets, and catches Ren’s scent—that strange, scorched smell—on his sheets. Hux lurches almost onto his side to press further into that smell. He mouthes at the sheets, as if he could swallow Ren’s smell the same way he wants to swallow Ren, take him into his body, mark him as _his_ —

Hux cries out and comes, dampening his sheets with his panting groans. Only muscle memory keeps him from coming on the bed as he instinctively cups his hand around the head of his cock. He holds his soiled hand awkwardly as his breathing slows and regulates. The plug bobs in him, and he scrunches his face against the overstimulation, even as it sends a weak pulse down his thighs. 

Despite his orgasm, he feels unsatisfied, and he doesn’t want to think about why. 

 

The next night, he plugs himself in the shower. Easier, cleaner, he tells himself. It also lets him avoid thinking about why he now finds his own bed strangely empty. 

Hux _has_ been enjoying Ren’s absence. Without Ren to question his orders, undermine his authority, and destroy his equipment, the inexorable march of Empire marches more smoothly than ever.

But he still wishes he knew _when_ Ren would return. It’s hardly something he can ask Supreme Leader about. The Supreme Leader is wise, and he’ll be able to see right through any carefully worded and affectedly casual inquiry about Ren’s whereabouts right to its prurient nature. 

The idea of Supreme Leader knowing about this makes his blood run cold. 

All he can do is wait, and continue his training. But it’s just not the same, plugging himself instead of Ren doing it. Without Ren’s filthy imagination as constant inspiration and motivation, he feels a little ridiculous. One night, he’s so preoccupied that he plugs himself without masturbating. He wakes up the next morning hard and panting, clenching around the plug. He barely has to touch himself before he comes hard enough that he actually cries out into the morning quiet of his quarters.

 _This is,_ Hux thinks, afterwards, _starting to get out of hand._

 

A week after Ren’s departure—not that Hux is in any way counting the days—he plugs himself without touching himself again. He has more time than usual tonight, as he’s making his routine bimonthly transition from gamma shift to alpha shift, but he just can’t summon the enthusiasm. 

After inserting the plug, he tugs his undergarments back on over it. He glances in the mirror, but there’s nothing to see—it’s tucked completely inside of him, save, of course, the base. 

He could wear it on shift without anyone noticing. The way Ren wanted him to.

Hux shakes his head and rolls his eyes at himself. He’s being ridiculous. He opens the door to the refresher and finds himself face to face with the man himself. 

For a moment, he wonders if he’s gotten so desperate that he’s actually _hallucinating_ Ren, but no. Ren looks as surprised as he does, as if he meant to burst in on Hux in the refresher and didn’t expect his surprise to be ruined. 

_Invasion of privacy, how romantic,_ Hux scoffs mentally, even as his hand rises up into the space between them of its own accord. “You’re back,” he says, obviously. Unwarranted, peculiar warmth spreads through him. Ren’s eyes search his face, and his brows furrow. 

“You missed me,” Ren says. He sounds surprised.

Hux feels his face start to flush. If he opens his mouth, he’s going to say something, so he doesn’t. Instead, he covers Ren’s mouth with his, kissing him urgently as he shoves him backwards across the floor of his quarters. Ren keeps pace easily, matching his steps, only to stumble when the backs of his legs hit the edge Hux’s bed. Ren sits onto Hux’s bed with a heavy thump, and Hux climbs on top of him, straddling his lap. Hux’s previously disinterested cock stirs back into life with a vengeance, stiffening against the fabric of his underwear. His pulse is thundering in his ears. Ren is back, it says. Ren is here.

Ren is his. 

Ren must have just stepped off his shuttle—there’s the acrid smell of burning ozone on his robes and his face is clammy from the helmet. Somewhere, Hux knows that he should chide him for putting his personal interests about his professional ones. Surely, Supreme Leader needs to be debriefed immediately about the success of his mission before anything else. But he finds that he doesn’t care, not when Ren’s personal interest is _him_.

“You’re back,” Hux repeats, and he’s not sure if he’s saying that to give Ren a chance to correct his response or because he can’t quite believe it. 

Ren runs his gloved hands over Hux’s thighs, making him shiver, before grabbing his ass. The plug jars in Hux, and he grimaces, cock throbbing and rising in response. Hux hisses, steadying a hand on Ren’s chest, as Ren traces the base of the plug through his underwear. “And you,” Ren says, lip curving wickedly, “are ready.”

For a moment, Hux stares down at Ren, uncomprehending. And then he’s pulling at Ren’s robes, pushing him down onto the bed.

“Off, _off_ ,” he commands.

Ren smirks. “You did miss me.” 

Hux ignores him and pulls at his cloak, but Ren bats away his hands to undress himself. Thwarted, Hux clambers off of Ren to sit on his right as Ren begins to strip. As suspected, the robes are a complicated arrangement of dark garments. As Ren removes them, he hands them to Hux, who gleefully tosses them to the floor in a heap. 

Except for the gloves. “Put these back on,” he says, handing them back to Ren.

Ren smirks at him, making him flush, but he obeys. He shimmies off the leggings and pulls off the innermost shirt, leaving him in his undergarments, before tugging them back on theatrically. Hux involuntarily licks his lips. 

The robes add less bulk than he thought—Ren is broad, strong, _powerful_. His pale skin is flecked with moles, a trail of dark, coarse hair leading down from his navel and into the waistband of his undergarment. Ren plants his hands on the edge of the bed and glances up at Hux with a guarded expression, as if he’s self-conscious. Of what, Hux can’t possibly imagine. He looks like the weapon he is. A thrill run throughs Hux. 

He presses closer and runs a hand up the inside of Ren’s arm, tracing the powerful curve of his biceps, his shoulder. Ren’s nipples almost dangle off of his well-defined chest, and Hux reaches over to experimentally trace and then pull at one. Ren’s face twitches as he presses into the touch, but it doesn’t seem particularly sensitive. _Shame_ , Hux thinks, the same hand continuing down Ren’s chest and muscled stomach without missing a beat. 

He presses his forehead to Ren’s temple, taking in his familiar, scorched scent. “You’ve been holding out on me, Ren,” he murmurs. 

“I have,” Ren admits. He tips his chin towards Hux for a kiss, but Hux just ghosts hot breath against his full lips. Hux’s wandering hand continues wandering down, until he feels coarse hair. 

“In more than ways than one,” Hux says, and slips his hand underneath the waistband of Ren’s undergarments. Ren swallows loudly as Hux closes his hand around his cock and pulls it out. “Look at you,” Hux purrs. Ren’s expression flickers briefly, and his thick cock twitches in Hux’s hands. Hux can’t match Ren’s filthy imagination, just his intonation, but he’s starting to see the benefits of muttering filth. The results are so promising. Ren’s cock is only half-hard in his hand, but it’s still as impressive as Hux remembers.

Although no longer as intimidating. 

Hux settles his head on Ren’s shoulder as he slowly works Ren’s cock to full attention, more to mouth under his jawline than to curl up next to him. But his eyes close at the familiar sound of Ren’s breathing, the familiar feel of his body, the familiar taste of his skin. When Ren actually gasps, Hux opens his eyes.

His monstrous cock is fully erect in Hux’s hand. Hux squeezes experimentally—Ren groans and Hux watches precome leak out of it, dripping down the head and threatening to run over Hux’s hand. Hux can’t resist—he leans down and takes what he can of Ren’s cock in his mouth, which is little more than the tip. Ren _whines_ and leaks salty fluid into his mouth. Hux suckles at the tip and shudders himself when Ren’s gloved hand trails over his back and traces up his neck. His own cock throbs in response, swelling to full attention. Ren’s fingers bury themselves in the short hair at the back of Hux’s head. The idea of Ren pushing him deeper onto his cock sends a faint, thrilling rush of panic through Hux, enough to make him tense—and clench around the ever-present plug, which presses against his prostate and makes him gasp around Ren’s cock. But Ren does no such thing. Instead, he pulls Hux up and off his cock by his hair. 

Right hand still rooted to the back of Hux’s head, Ren grabs at his hip with his left, squeezing Hux roughly as he yanks him onto his lap. The plug makes itself known again, and Hux is biting his lip even before he sinks down on Ren’s lap and feels Ren’s massive length rub against his own trapped erection. A lesser man would feel emasculated, but Ren’s size—and not just in that department—goes to Hux’s head in a much more productive way.

Hux kisses Ren, who kisses back greedily, and rubs his hands over Ren’s rounded shoulders, his collar bones, his strong arms. He can’t stop _touching_ Ren, after having been so long denied. He’s pleasantly warm. And he’s more responsive than Hux had thought he would be, to his delight. Ren pulls back, teeth scraping on Hux’s lower lip. “You taste of me,” Ren informs him, and kisses him again, as if to chase the salty taste of himself in Hux’s mouth. 

Hux shudders bodily, cock pulsing. 

Ren licks into his mouth and then breaks away, snaking his strong arms around Hux’s trim waist. He slowly twists and tilts until he’s pushing Hux down onto the bed, sliding on top of him neatly. The weight of Ren is so delicious against Hux that he grunts. 

For a moment, as Hux blinks up at him, Ren is silent. He’s just _looking_ at Hux, dark eyes soft and searching. Hux realizes, his chest tightening, that Ren missed _him_ , too. The opposite of bile rises in his throat and he drops his gaze, pressing his lips together to keep himself from speaking. Instead, he twists underneath Ren to lie on his stomach, tucking his left forearm under his head. “You should take the plug out,” he says.

Ren’s weight leaves him, briefly, and then his fingers are at the waistband of Hux’s undergarments. There’s some awkward shuffling as Ren tugs them down his hips and legs, but, soon, he’s divested of the garment. 

Hux gasps and groans as Ren’s gloved hands grab his buttocks, spreading them apart for a better look at the plug. “Good,” Ren says, simply. Hux rolls his eyes, even as the praise warms his chest. Ren massages him, making the plug shift within him. Hux cries out and leaks onto the bed. His cock’s gone untouched since Ren walked into the room, but the sheets and mattress provide some—although certainly nowhere near enough—friction. Hux is already flushed to his chest. His shoulders burn so much that he feels like they’re radiating a halo of heat, shame, arousal. He feels thrillingly exposed under Ren’s gaze. 

Hux bites back a whine as Ren works the plug out of him slowly. He both wants and fears Ren pressing it back into him, fucking him with it instead of his cock. His need for release vies with his desire for Ren to fuck him properly. “Your body doesn’t want to give it up,” Ren murmurs. “It wants to be full. It wants to be _fucked_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Hux hisses, pressing his burning face into the sheets. 

“I’ll fill you up,” Ren croons, in a low, condescending sing-song that both infuriates and inflames Hux. The plug finally slips free with a slick noise, and Hux feels hollow, his stretched hole closing slightly on nothing. “I’ll fuck you.” 

Hux has no time to wonder where Ren’s putting the slick, used plug, because Ren’s suddenly on his knees behind him, thick cock heavy against the cleft of his ass. He must have shucked off his underwear at some point. Perhaps Ren’s better at multitasking than Hux had previously thought. Ren’s gloved hands pull at his hips, pulling his ass into the air, and Hux groans at the feel of that rough leather on his sensitive skin. 

Ren pulls back to tease Hux’s slick, stretched hole with the head of his cock. “You’re so wet for me, _General_ ,” Ren says, approvingly. Hux grimaces and whines into the sheets at that praise, cock throbbing, leaking. 

Ren pushes into him slowly. Hux takes the first few inches easily, but once Ren pushes in deeper than he’s ever been fucked, Hux experiences a brief flash of instinctive panic, clenching around Ren. Ren makes a choked, snarling noise at the pressure, a sound that goes to Hux’s head, but he stops moving. 

“Breathe, breathe,” Ren leans over to murmur into his ear, one gloved hand lifting off Hux’s hip to rub his back. Hux finds himself both touched and patronized by Ren’s caution.

The panic passes, leaving behind only a residual adrenaline that sharpens Hux’s arousal. Hux’s cock pulses and aches as he pants. “Keep going,” he murmurs, and, then, louder, as Ren hasn’t moved, “Keep going.” 

Ren’s hand stills on his back and he begins feeding his cock into Hux again, slowly. Hux focuses so much on just breathing with what’s left of his conscious mind that he’s almost startled when he feels Ren push himself in to the hilt with a long hiss. 

Again, Ren stills. Hux almost can’t believe he’s taken the whole thing, save for how much it burns, despite his training. Ren waits patiently as the burn recedes from Hux, leaving only the immense fullness, the stretch of accommodating Ren’s outsized cock. Hux groans, squeezing his eyes shut, and clenches around Ren—

Only to find that he can’t. Hux’s eyes shoot open, unseeing. He’s stretched so tightly over Ren’s cock that his muscles _can’t_ contract. Hux moans, heedless of how wanton he sounds, heedless of anything that’s not Ren filling him so completely. “Fuck me,” he demands.

“What was that?” Ren asks lightly. Despite the condescending question, Ren is panting, his voice is strained. He did that to Ren, he’s doing that to Ren, Hux realizes, and his head swims with that level of influence. 

“Fuck me, Ren, _please_ ,” he begs.

Ren presses fisted hands into the mattress on either side of Hux and presses forward, pressing his weight against Hux until he’s trapped between Ren and the mattress, aching, leaking cock pressed against the sheets. Ren rolls his hips and begins to fucks Hux with short, slow thrusts. They reverberate disproportionately through Hux’s entire body. Hux’s eyes open and close, his panting rises and falls, but he does not sense those things. His entire sensory input has narrowed only to Ren fucking him open. 

“Ren, _Ren_ ,” he bleats, uselessly. Hux jerks his head up, whining, when he feels Ren’s hair flicker at his shoulder, his mouth on his overheated, red shoulder. 

“You feel so _good_ ,” Ren pants. “Like you were made to take me.”

Hux is so dazed with lust, nearly trembling from that perfect feeling of fullness and how hard and aching he is, that he misses the simile completely. “I was,” he says, struggling to string his words together. “You did that.”

“I did, I did, I made you perfect for me, you’re perfect, you’re perfect,” Ren mumbles, mouthing, licking, nibbling at his shoulder as he fucks him. Hux moans and finds himself unable to stop. He’s never been unusually loud in bed, but the stretch and drag of that massive cock _finally_ inside of him is changing that, driving all kinds of noises out of him. 

It takes him a moment to realize Ren is still talking. “Ssh, ssh, you’ll wake the ship,” Ren pants into his ear. Hux tries to obey, but he can’t stop vocalizing. Somewhere, distantly, he blames Ren for that. Ren grunts and presses a gloved hand over Hux’s mouth. Hux’s eyes roll back at the smell, the feel, the _taste_ of the leather as he drags his tongue over Ren’s palm without thinking. 

Something tense and coiled untethers inside Hux, and he becomes all sensation, nearly melting into the bed, letting Ren ravage his body so thoroughly. “Hux—” Ren chokes out. It’s the only warning he gets before Ren comes, pumping into him furiously. His own cock twitches and leaks sympathetically, hard enough to make Hux grit his teeth and groan. 

Ren’s hand abandons his mouth, letting Hux’s head fall back to the mattress. He pulls out of Hux slowly, dragging his cock all the way out before pressing its wet head into Hux’s overstretched rim. Hux whines at the sensation of it. “ _Fuck_ ,” Ren whimpers, and Hux gasps as Ren’s hands land on his ass again, spreading his cheeks to get a better look. Hux makes a choked noise as he feels Ren’s come drip out of his red, aching hole. Triumph floods Hux—at finally managing to take Ren, at making Ren come, and at how filthy he must look—

“Ren,” Hux warns, “I’m going to—”

Hux shudders, but before he can come, Ren pushes _back_ into him, fucking him through his orgasm and beyond it. It’s a little smoother, with Ren’s come to ease the way. As Hux goes boneless, Ren practically lifts him up by his hips to keep fucking him, filling him mercilessly. Ren snarls and his hips snap and stutter as he comes _again_. There’s barely enough room for just Ren in Hux, so he feels himself overflow, cock twitching weakly at the sensation of it. 

Ren pulls out of Hux, collapsing on top of him, pressing them both into the bed. Ren’s panting breath is loud in his ears, and his only tether to reality while his mind seemingly restarts from scratch. Eventually, though, Ren’s weight becomes oppressive.

“Did you come _twice_?” Hux asks, over his shoulder.

Ren kisses his neck. “It’s been a while.”

“You piece of shit,” Hux says, and it’s almost affectionate.

Ren grunts as he rises onto his hands and knees, freeing Hux. Hux stretches and rolls over, grimacing as lube and come drips out of him and onto the sheets. _Messy_ , he thinks, distastefully. But his expression changes when he sees how Ren’s eyes catch on his body, pretty mouth falling open. “Enjoying your handiwork, Lord Ren?” 

Ren doesn’t answer. Instead, he lurches forward, lowering himself onto Hux, pressing him into the mattress again, resting his head on Hux’s clavicle.

“Ren,” Hux says, and he means to continue, he means to say, “Ren, you’re crushing me,” but he doesn’t. “Ren,” Hux repeats, petting his sweaty hair. “Ren.” He continues repeating his name, over and over, feeling, strangely, like a character in a religious parable, who has tamed the beast by enduring him. 

 

Hux jerks awake, and it takes him a moment to realize that no alarm has sounded. He squints at the chromometer on the far side of the room. Alpha shift won’t start for another hour—

And his entire abdomen is _sore_. 

It hits him a thick wave. It’s not painful—more like the soreness of overexerting himself in Echani—but it’s _very_ present. He shifts onto his side, and the soreness throbs within in. 

Well. At least it was worth it. 

Hux starts when an arm winds around his waist. 

Ren is still in his bed. He hums and shifts closer to Hux until he can tuck his chin over Hux’s shoulder. They’re practically spooning. The intimacy of it both spooks and thrills Hux. 

“You stayed,” Hux says, and regrets it immediately—out loud, it sounds foolish, obvious.

But Ren is too sleepy to notice. “You asked me to,” Ren says, yawning. “I’ve earned the right.”

Hux hasn’t thought past this point—thought past Ren fucking him, thought past waking up with Ren in his bed. He’s not sure where they go from here, and that makes him feel something close to weak. Something close to tender.

Ren, however, seems to suffer from no such indecision. He tugs Hux closer to him, kissing behind his ear, and, before Hux can protest, wraps a still-gloved hand around Hux’s morning wood.

_Well_ , Hux thinks, _it would be a shame to waste all that hard work_ , and then he stops thinking. 


End file.
